


Too High to Live, Too Young to Die

by onetiredboy



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ben's death, Gen, Ghost Powers, Good Brother Ben Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Open to Interpretation, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sibling Bonding, Teenage Ben, ben and klaus only have each other, ben hargreeves & klaus hargreeves - Freeform, teenage klaus, theyre all trying their best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-08 00:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17971400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onetiredboy/pseuds/onetiredboy
Summary: Klaus Hargreeves knows the rest of his siblings have no respect for him. Even Ben, the one brother who bothered to spend time with him, who tried to talk him out of stealing their father's alcohol and sneaking out late at night, is starting to lose interest. They probably all wouldn't even notice if he just slipped away from the house and lived the rest of his life on the streets.That is, until Ben dies.





	1. Chapter 1

“Master Klaus! Master _Klaus_!”

The vomit-green paint on the metal railing is chipped and falling away. There are marks on Klaus’s hands already from where it has rubbed onto his skin. A screw falls past his ear and the rail trembles under his fingers, but his world all over is trembling anyway, trembling, shaking, rattling, so what does it matter?

“Master Klaus!” Pogo’s voice rarely raises enough to crack, so hearing it makes Klaus smile to himself and drop lower down the side of the building.

“Master Klaus, Master Klaus,” he mutters as he scales down the rest of the wall. He jumps at the last moment, and though it’s not far at all he stumbles when he hits the ground. The old man had a better alcohol tolerance than Klaus gave him credit for: whatever Klaus had stolen from his stash and chugged in the pantry hadn’t been your regular evening wine.

Pogo shouts again, and prickling irritation climbs up the back of Klaus’s neck. “Master Klaus,” he imitates – though Pogo’s real voice isn’t as high pitched or as obnoxiously British as Klaus makes him sound – “Oh, _do_ come and join your siblings! They are going to _so desperately_ need a living Ouija board for this mission, Master Klaus. You won’t end up standing in the corner a-fucking-gain, Master Klaus.”

He tips his head back and cackles, flipping both birds at one of the spare windows in the side of the house, “Bulllll- _shit_ , Pogo. They won’t have any trouble at all without me, no, no, Luther and Allison and _Ben_ ,” he spits the last word, “ _Ben_ , who’s too high and mighty and ‘disapproving of that lifestyle’” – he air-quotes with his fingers – “to spend some quality drinking time with his favourite brother, noooo, they can sort it all out themselves. Ugh, my head hurts.”

Klaus stumbles down the alleyway. It’s a wonder Pogo doesn’t find him, really: by the time he’s reached the main street he’s tripped over three boxes and fallen into one garbage can.

Klaus stops at the end of the road and stares out into the main street. Cars rush past, and the sun glares a little too brightly at him from between two buildings. He tries to put his hands in his pockets before remembering that this skirt doesn’t have any, and then groans, “Charles.”

He’s not wearing a shirt, either, just a weird little vest he picked up in a thrift shop a while ago, and the sun beats down on the exposed part of his back like the beating he’ll get when he gets back home. Or maybe the old man will just take him into his private room for a bit, stare at him for a long while, and then make that fucking sound – that quiet, disappointed ‘ _hm_ ’, the one that burrows deep into his heart and nestles in there and sometimes consumes him whole.

Klaus stumbles down another alleyway, muttering, “Charles…” The sun stiffens; it’s seen him here before, and then it moves behind a building, averting its eyes from watching Klaus sink to rock bottom once again.

“Klaus.”

Klaus pulls his eyes from his shoes and wobbles for a moment. Then he smiles, liquidly, and the world does a funny little dance around the blonde-haired boy in front of him, “Charles!”

“Jesus, Klaus, how high are you?”

Klaus scoffs, and then laughs like a strangled goat, “I’m not high, baby, you know I’d never cheat on you with another dealer. Stole summa my old man’s fuckin liquor, you woulda thought he’d learn to keep it locked up better after the first eight times, right?” He laughs again for a moment, and then the laughter drains out of him like a brick dropped to the ground. He places his hands seriously on Charles’ shoulders, “Charles, I’m off the drugs. For good this time. I’m not here for drugs.” The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk.

Charles is looking at him full of scepticism. Then he glances over behind Klaus down the alleyway and sighs, “Maybe you should come inside, huh?”

“That’s more like it,” Klaus mutters, and Charles turns away from him and runs up the stairs into the abandoned shack he calls a home. Charles is an orphan, too, only he was lucky enough not to be swept off the streets by a billionaire and kept under lock and key for 16 years like a damaged valuable. He’s been selling drugs around here for a little over three years now. He’s been fucking Klaus for a little under a week.

By the time Klaus makes it up the stairs and into the house Charles’ mouth is already on him, hot and breathy. Klaus is pushed back against the wall as they kiss, and – it’s not as good as fucking while high, but Charles’ hands are restless and calloused against his skin and _man_ , he missed this feeling. It opens him up, a gentler burn than liquor but just as hot.

Charles’ hand slips under the elastic band of Klaus’s skirt, and Klaus tips his head back against the wall and his mouth falls open, some guttural sound leaving the back of his throat.

“Yeah?” Charles mutters, and Klaus tips his head back down to mutter some dirty promise, and then he screams and pushes Charles away.

“ _Fucking_ hell, Ben! How long have you been standing there!?”

Charles spins around so that he’s face to face with Klaus’s brother. He’s still in his fucking spandex uniform from whatever mission they were meant to be fighting. His eyes are wide and horrified on Klaus’s face. Guess that’s one way to come out to your sibling.

“You fucking followed me, didn’t you?” Klaus groans, putting a hand to his forehead, “Dad’s going to kill me.”

“Klaus,” Charles turns back to him, and his eyes are dark with accusation.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Klaus pushes himself off the wall and gestures vaguely towards Ben, “This is my loser brother, Ben.”

“Klaus,” Charles doesn’t turn, “There’s nobody there.”

Klaus looks slowly from Ben to Charles and frowns, “What do you mean there’s nobody there?”

Charles lowers his head and nods for a second. Then he breathes in long through his nose and meets Klaus’s eyes, “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“What?” Klaus asks, but Charles has already turned away from him. Klaus looks to Ben, desperately, but he’s only staring at the wall. He runs after Charles, “No! I’m not high! I wasn’t lying to you, I haven’t smoked all week— _Ben_!” he screams, when Charles only shrugs off his desperate hands and keeps walking, “Ben! Say something! Move, for God’s sake! Why won’t you—?!”

Klaus lets go of Charles and charges for his brother. Ben turns slowly to face him in the seconds before impact, pale and frightened, and then Klaus leaps at him. The world tumbles for a moment, and then his breath is knocked out of him as his back slams against the ground.

Klaus lies still, catching his breath. From the doorframe, where he’s paused, Charles shakes his head and walks out onto the street. Ben stands over Klaus’s body—no, not over. Klaus follows the line of his body down to his legs and finds that Ben is standing _in_ him.

Klaus’s throat is suddenly tight. He looks back up at his brother. “Ben?”

Ben trembles like a leaf. His eyes meet Klaus’s, “What the fuck are you doing, Klaus?”

“What?”

“What the _fuck are you doing?!_ ” Ben aims a punch for Klaus’s face. It goes right through him and Ben leaps back like he’s been cursed, “Put me back! This isn’t funny! Put me back!”

“Put you back _where_?!” Klaus scrambles to his feet. Something cold and sick unfurls in his stomach. Something is deeply, deeply wrong with this, but every time Klaus thinks about what it is, his mind goes fuzzy, like he’s being censored out of his own thoughts.

“Put me back with the others! I _know_ you’re doing this!” Ben pulls back a fist and Klaus flinches, ready for the impact, but Ben stops himself. He looks scared. He grabs his own arms and pulls them tight, “One second,” he says, his voice a little lower, but just as angry, “I was with everyone. We were fighting some guys in a library, and we were winning. Luther and I chased them down into the back rooms, and I went to attack them and then—”

Klaus looks back at Ben. His mouth is open slightly. His eyebrows are high on his face and his eyes are pulled wide.

“No,” Klaus whispers, “No.”

Ben closes his mouth. Klaus watches his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. Then Ben breathes something, and Klaus screws his eyes shut. He didn’t hear what he said, but he doesn’t want to. His stomach rocks.

He hears Ben’s breath tremble. “I went to attack them,” he says, quietly, “And then… I died.”

Klaus leans over and vomits on the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

“Klaus, please—”

“Shut _up!”_ Klaus kicks a garbage can across the street. It tips over, rubbish scattering everywhere. If he wanders the streets long enough, he’ll run into one of the dealers he knows. If he can get high, Ben will go away. Everything will be alright if Ben goes away.

“No,” Ben stops walking beside him. The tone in his voice is the one he gets when he’s done with Klaus’s shit, “I want to go home.”

“Go home,” Klaus parrots. He turns around and looks Ben in the eye, “Do you know what happens to me if we go home?”

Ben has a scathing look on his face, “It’s not all about you all the ti—”

“No, Ben. You listen to me,” Klaus takes a step towards him, his arm raised like he’ll – what, hit him? Run through him into the wall again? Klaus lowers his arm and glares, “If I go home now, home to five brothers and sisters mourning your loss, there’s nothing they’ll stop at to get me to conjure you. They’ll hunt me down no matter where I am in the house. And when I fail? Dad will chain me up beside your lifeless, cold, fucked-up body for hours and hours and hours until I pass out.”

“So just conjure me!”

“I don’t know how!” Klaus shouts, and then he groans and turns away from Ben. He starts walking fast down the street, but Ben easily keeps pace with him.

The sun is properly starting to set, now. There are glimpses of blue-purple clouds through the buildings, and the air around them is getting hazy and dark.

“Klaus, you don’t have the right to be selfish like this,” Ben says. He always sounds so careful and serious, like he has no other emotions – apart from disappointment in his brother, of course. He always has plenty of that. Klaus feels something around his throat. At first, he thinks it’s anger. After a moment, he realises it’s shame.

“I want to see my family again. They have the right to see me,” Ben demands. “I _died_ this afternoon, Klaus, do you have any idea how that feels? I’m _dead._ I’ll never touch any of you ever again. I’ll never eat another one of Mum’s meals. I’m _dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead—”_

“Shut _up!”_ Klaus screams, and he falls to his knees on the ground. The bitumen scratches his hands, but he hits at the ground, “You’re so worried about everyone else. You want to see all your other siblings. You’re so worried about how _they’re_ feeling about this. For fuck’s sake, Ben! I’ve lost my brother, too!”

Klaus puts his forehead on his knees, wrapping his arms over the back of his head, and cries. Like it was waiting for a cue, the sun takes this time to finally sink beneath the horizon. Darkness rushes into the space. Now the world finally looks how Klaus sees it.

Ben says nothing for a very long time. Klaus can’t stand to look up at him. When he’s cried out all the tears he has, he just lies there, sniffling. His head pounds against his skull. The night starts to get cold. At long last, Klaus sits up, “I need to get high.”

He slowly staggers to his feet. Each of his joints ache like he’s been lying there for hours. He doesn’t truthfully know how long it’s been, though. His vision is shadowy, but not because of the alcohol – that wore off long ago. He guesses he hasn’t had time to adjust to the low light.

“I’m sorry, Klaus.”

Klaus makes a grunt and starts walking. Ben follows behind him at a distance, maybe trying to give him space, but knowing that the ghost of his brother is breathing down his neck behind him doesn’t give Klaus much solace.

“I guess I’m just… still getting used to the idea that I’m really dead,” Ben says. His voice is sad, but Klaus refuses to look back at him.

“It feels so empty. Like, you’re just here, and I should be able to hug you and tell you I’m alright, but… I’m a ghost. And nothing will ever change that. I don’t—” his voice chokes up, and then it starts speeding up and getting higher, filled with panic, “You’re going to be the only one of my siblings I can ever talk to ever again, until you all die too, oh my God. Oh my God, I can’t even feel my own heartbe—”

“Can we _please_ talk about something else,” Klaus interrupts him, and his own voice sounds hoarse, “I’m going to throw up again.”  

“I—” Ben starts, but then he goes quiet again. He makes no footsteps, so Klaus can only guess he’s still behind him. He doesn’t know where he’s walking, but it’s in a crooked line away from the house. He has nowhere to sleep, but he’s not sure he even could, anyway.

“So,” Ben tries again. His voice is back to its normal pitch, though it shakes a little. For a second, Klaus remembers the nervous boy he grew up with, and it makes him stop walking and glance over his shoulder.

Ben has his diamond mask off, and his arms folded on his chest. He wets his lips nervously and tips his head a little, “So… that boy. Is he your… um, your…?”

Klaus turns back away from Ben and starts walking again. Ben’s implied question doesn’t make him as nauseous as he first was Ben saw him with Charles, but he still feels a deep-set sadness. He can’t imagine Ben will ever see him the same way again, “He’s just my dealer. He _was_ just my dealer.”

“Yeah, but…” Ben trails off. Klaus sighs.

“Yes, okay? Fine. You want obviously want to hear me say it,” but it’s still a second before Klaus does: “To the surprise of literally nobody, I’m gay.”

“I never knew.”

“You probably would’ve, if you actually paid attention to me at all growing up,” Klaus kicks at a stone on the ground, “Remember the amount of times we used to play dress-up?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Well, it did for me,” Klaus hunches his shoulders. The spit in his mouth tastes bitter, “So, congrats. You have yet another thing to add to your list of reasons to be disappointed in me: alcohol, drugs, cowardice, and being into dick.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Klaus can’t feel his body. It’s like his soul is so disgusted with himself it’s writhing to get out.

“Klaus,” Ben says at last, “I’ve never been disappointed in you.”

Klaus scoffs, “Sure you haven’t. Your cross-dressing drug-addict loser of a brother has been nothing but a source of constant pride for you.”

“You’ve always got to be the victim, don’t you?”

Klaus whips around to look back at Ben.

“You know, when one of your brothers goes off the rails and starts—starts—” Ben gestures to a spot in the air, “Hooking up with random drug dealers, and can’t handle a day without his fix, there’s… there’s obviously something wrong. I was never disappointed in you, Klaus, I was _worried_ about you.”

The sadness in Klaus’s body turns into guilt, and all at once he goes from being half a ghost himself to being too solid, too real.

“Growing up, I—” Ben makes a sound in the back of his throat and looks down at the ground for a second. Then he looks back up at Klaus, “Everyone else in our lives only ever cared about training. About using their powers. You and I, we— we were the only ones who hated having them.”

Klaus swallows over the lump that’s just formed in his throat.

“I’m sorry that you have to have me following you around,” Ben continues. “If I knew how to disappear and leave you alone, I would, because I know you don’t like—I know it’s not nice being forced to remember you have powers. But I’m also not sorry. Because I’m—alone, and scared, and… you’re the only person I’d want to be around like this.”

Klaus sniffles. He wipes at his eyes because he feels like he’s been crying, although they’re still dry because he’s already cried all his tears. “I fucking hate that I can’t hug you.”

Ben smiles sadly and reaches out. His arms go right through Klaus’s body, but Klaus closes his eyes and tries to imagine some warmth.

“And Klaus,” he adds, and Klaus has to spin around again because Ben has walked right through him. Ben smiles again, “The drugs and the alcohol have got to go eventually. But dressing you up in Mum’s clothes when we were little was, like… the highlight of my childhood. None of our other brothers would’ve had the guts to rock a skirt so well.”

Klaus finally smiles back, “None of our other brothers _could_ rock a skirt so well.”

“Right,” Ben says, and his smile turns into a grin. He shrugs a shoulder up to his ear, “And, this stays just between you and me, but… for the last few years, a part of me has been wondering, um. If I’m not… a little bit bisexual, myself.”

“What?” Klaus gasps. He almost goes to shove Ben before remembering, and then he grins and jumps on the spot, “This whole time?! You never told me?!”

“I’m not sure, yet!”

“We could’ve been checking out hot guys together for years!” Klaus laughs like a maniac, “This whole time! My own brother!”

“Klaus, I said I’m not even sure, yet!”

“Well, now you have all of eternity to figure it out,” Klaus grins, “But you are. Definitely. I can see it.”

“I think _this_ ,” Ben gestures towards Klaus, “is probably exactly why I never told you.”

“No, _this_ ,” Klaus gestures towards himself, “is exactly why you should’ve. Ha!” he laughs and turns away from Ben, sauntering down the street, “And now you’re dead, and you’re going to be a virgin for- _eeeeveeeer_.”

“Don’t worry,” Ben is suddenly right beside him, and he gives Klaus a look, “If things don’t change, it also seems like I’m going to be in the room watching you every time you have sex for- _eeeveeer_ , too.”

Klaus stops walking, “Oh God. Oh, God, no, no. No, no, no, no, no—” he groans, and Ben, standing beside him, only laughs.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s 3am when Klaus decides to sneak back into the house.

His fingers pull urgently at the sill of a window – if he can just get it open, he can slip inside and be in his room before good old Reggie wakes up and demands a séance. But it doesn’t budge. He groans in frustration and starts walking further down the side of the house, his fingers trailing the bricks.

“I don’t get it,” Ben says from behind him, “Why can’t you just tell them you can see me?”

Klaus laughs dryly. The hand that isn’t trailing the bricks reaches into the pen-pocket on his vest, and he grabs a small zip-loc bag of pills in his fist. His easy way out, “I told you why. This will be the perfect excuse for Dad to start up his fucked-up training again. Seeing _your_ ghost is bad enough. You have no idea what it’s like having hundreds of them, all trying to claw their way back into the living world through your brain.” When Klaus blinks, he sees them, and he shivers.

“He’ll want me to—I don’t know,” Klaus continues, “Bring you back? Re-animate your corpse? Make you—visible to the rest of them, or something stupid and impossible like that.”

Klaus stops at another window and pulls at the glass. It slides open, and he grins. “Perfectly predictable. Nobody ever remembers this window,” he whispers, and opens it the full way. He hoists himself up into the sill and almost falls over. A glass tumbles off the bench in front of the window where it had been drying and falls into the sink with a loud clatter. In the other room, a light flicks on.

“Fuck,” Klaus says.

“Klaus?”

Diego. Klaus sticks his hand into his vest pocket again and pulls out the zip-loc bag. He tips it back, pouring a few of the pills into his mouth, and swallows.

“Klaus!” Ben hisses, “You were only supposed to take one!”

“I said that to stop you from panicking,” Klaus mutters, and jumps down from the sink. He has a feeling it’s going to take a very solid high to get Ben away from him. Ben’s ghost is the clearest and most well manifested ghost he’s ever dealt with.

“You overdosing is not part of the plan,” Ben grumbles as he pulls himself up into the window.

Klaus rolls his eyes, but before he can inform his poor, naïve brother about the realities of taking drugs, Diego walks into the kitchen.

“Where have you been?” Diego crosses his arms, stands solidly in the centre of the room. His tone is serious. If the next ten minutes of conversation weren’t going to decide Klaus’s life for the next few months, he’d laugh.

“Diego,” Ben whispers from behind Klaus.

“I’ve been out, dear brother,” Klaus answers, and makes a break for it between the side of Diego’s body and the wall. For a second, he thinks he’s made it out clear, but then he’s jolted backwards by his vest and dragged back into the kitchen.

“You missed the mission today,” Diego says.

“Oh?” Klaus blinks up at him, “Well, it looks like you handled it just fine without me!”

Diego says nothing, but his face twists into something filled with pain. He lets go of Klaus’s vest and puts his hands on his shoulders, “Klaus…”

Diego bursts into tears.

“Aw—” Klaus gives an alarmed look back at Ben, and then pulls Diego into a hug and pats his back awkwardly, “OK, fine, I won’t skip out on the next mission,” he laughs breathlessly, “I didn’t think it meant that much to you.”

“No,” Diego sobs, and he lifts his head from Diego’s shoulder, “No, Klaus, you don’t understand. It’s Ben—” Diego’s voice breaks, and he sobs again. Klaus’s breath is squeezed out of him.

“Diego.”

Ben is standing beside Diego now, and tears are running down his face. “Diego,” he says again, but his voice is so weak and thin not even Klaus can hear it properly, “Diego, I’m right here, Diego.”

Ben reaches out. His hand moves through Diego’s shoulder. Klaus closes his eyes so that he doesn’t have to look. His body has refreshed his store of tears, and he feels them rush up his throat and into the back of his eyes. He can’t think of what he ever did to deserve this.

“Ben’s dead, Klaus,” Diego sobs out.

“Klaus.”

Klaus opens his eyes to see Allison standing in the doorway behind Diego. Her eyes are blood-shot and her cheeks are wet. She shakes her head slowly at him, “Where _were_ you?”

Diego finally releases Klaus from his grip and stands up. He grabs a tissue from the box on the kitchen table and blows his nose.

“Allison,” Ben reaches out for her too, but she doesn’t even shiver when Ben puts his arm through her.

Allison reaches out for Klaus and pulls him into a hug. The smell of her perfume rushes up his nose and puts a different, stinging kind of tears in his eyes. This is already the most attention Klaus has gotten from anyone else but Ben in years. He wishes he could confidently say it was out of concern for his wellbeing, and not just because he’s the brother who could bring Ben back.

“Come on,” Allison says when she pulls back from Klaus, “Everyone else is in the living room.”

He should’ve known they wouldn’t be asleep. Klaus scuffs his boots on the ground as he follows Allison sulkily out of the kitchen. He wonders when the ecstasy will kick in. He didn’t tell Ben, but this is the first time he’s moved from smoking to pills.

The first person he makes eye contact with when he walks into the room is his father.

“Number Four!” he exclaims, in that snappy, stupid voice he has, “ _What_ are you wearing?”

Klaus has totally forgotten what he’s wearing. The question feels surreal, so he looks down at himself, “Oh. One of Allison’s skirts.”

His father’s fists clench, and he moves to face Klaus front on, “Number Four. You are entitled to wear whatever you like inside the house. But outside these walls, you are a public figure! You know you are not to leave without your official academy uniform.”

“Dad,” Luther speaks up, “Forget him. It doesn’t matter.”

Klaus shoots a glare at his brother. He’s the only one who can say anything out of line without paying for it, “I’m capable of defending myself, brother dearest.”

“Do not speak unless you are spoken to!” Reginald barks.

Klaus scoffs in disbelief and turns his head away.

“I imagine you have been made aware of the death of Number Six,” his father continues.

“He’s…” Ben steps into Klaus’s peripheral vision, his eyebrows knitted in sadness, “He’s not even upset.”

There’s been a sickness festering in Klaus’s stomach since Ben very first appeared in front of him, and for a second it washes over him again. He wishes he knew how to make Ben go away, if not just to protect him from seeing his father’s expression.

“You realise that this is the perfect opportunity for you to extend your training.”

“Dad,” Allison pleads, “Don’t make him do it now, not before the funer—”

“Number Three!”

That’s all he has to say. Allison falls silent and hangs her head. Klaus feels something surge through him, something not entirely his own.

“I'm not summoning him.”

The others look up at him, and then at his father. His father’s face is pulled tight, and usually that look: the frozen, cold blue of his eyes, staring into him like he’s a stain on society, would stop him, but Klaus stands strong.

“Number Four,” his father says, coolly, “You have been gifted with unique powers. To not use them in this way would be an entire waste of your childhood. You will conjure him.”

“I can’t.”

His father falls silent again. His mouth twitches like he’s barely holding words back. His lips are pale and as lifeless as his eyes.

“Empty your pockets.”

Klaus’s breath becomes short. He knows. Klaus isn’t sure how, but he knows.

“No.”

Reginald nods his head slowly at Klaus, and then turns away from him. “Number One?”

Luther steps forward and grabs Klaus’s arms.

“Get off of me!” Klaus wrenches himself away, though the friction sends burns up his arms, but Luther grabs him again.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Klaus screeches, although he knows the swearing will get him in trouble later. He aims the heel of his palm to Luther’s eye and hits at him. The world is spinning around him, and he can hear his heart beat all the way through his body.

Luther yells and his hands return to Klaus’s arms, iron strong despite Klaus’s writhing. He lifts him off the ground and Klaus screams.

Luther throws Klaus down on the couch. Klaus kicks his legs up, but Luther pushes him down easily. His hand reaches into Klaus’s pocket, and Klaus scratches until he can feel the skin of Luther’s hand under his fingernails, but then Luther jumps away from him.

Klaus can do nothing but breathe and cry hysterically. Bad trip, bad trip, bad trip, bad trip, uh-oh. The room twists around him.

“Ecstasy,” he hears his father’s voice say, from several rooms away. “Grace!” he calls out, “Take Number Four back to his room, and monitor his vitals.” His voice goes lower again, “I think our young man is about to have his first overdose.”  

Then the room goes black.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Klaus sees when he wakes up is Ben.

Klaus has no idea where he is. It feels like he might be strapped down on a slowly spinning lazy Susan that someone’s about to throw knives at. When he stares at Ben’s face, the roof spins, but the moment he looks up at it, it snaps back into place as though denying it ever moved at all.

“Ben?” Klaus’s voice is weak and scratchy. Ben’s eyes go wide, and he presses a finger to his lips and shakes his head.

“Klaus, dear,” – Ben’s face goes blue and shaky, and Klaus’s breathing catches in his throat as his Mum’s face appears through it, “You’re awake.”

Ben steps aside and the two bodies separate. Klaus stares at Ben with bulging eyes, and then it comes back to him. “You’re dead.”

Grace blinks and turns her head towards Ben. Then she reaches over and places her hand on the side of Klaus’s face, “There’s nobody there, dear. Are you seeing a ghost?”

Ben shakes his head again, and Klaus closes his eyes. He turns his face into Grace’s hand and whispers, “No, Mum. I’m just tired.”

“Well, you would be,” Grace hums softly. She pulls her hand away and he hears her heels click across the floor, “Your body has had quite the shock. Klaus, you know I’m not one to criticise, but—”

 _You’ve been programmed not to criticise,_ the thought sneaks into his mind and Klaus immediately beats it down. Thinking too hard about his Mum being a robot is the same feeling as thinking about the Easter Bunny, or Santa, or God: the older you get, the more you start to realise some things just don’t add up, that these people probably never existed in the first place, but even entertaining those thoughts make the world seem so much lonelier and colder, so it’s easier just to pretend they make perfect sense.

“—I just don’t want to have my son on the streets, addicted to drugs,” Grace finishes her spiel on the dangers of narcotics, and walks back over to the side of his bed, “Come now, sit up and drink this.”

Klaus opens his eyes again and slowly forces himself to sit up. Grace smiles in her usual, cold-yet-affectionate way, and passes him a glass of water and an ibuprofen. When he takes it, she turns again, and starts packing up a first-aid kit that’s open on the bench.

As Klaus drinks, he glances across the room to Ben. He’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Klaus frowns. Where was he when Klaus had been out cold? Did he stay here, or had he been wandering around the afterlife? He has so many questions to ask.

Ben meets his eyes and smiles softly. The amount of concern on his face makes Klaus sick, so Klaus turns away and drinks from his glass again. Whenever he doesn’t have attention, Klaus craves it, but he only ever gets it in pity, sympathy, and that’s worse than not being noticed at all.

“Mum?” Klaus asks, and Grace turns to him and smiles gently, “Can I have a sandwich?”

“Of course, dear,” Grace coos, and she slips out of the room with her usual chipper poise.

Ben pushes off the wall the moment she disappears, and walks over to the side of Klaus’s bed, “If I were alive right now,” he says, “I would slap you.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Klaus rolls his eyes and lies back down in his bed.

“Don’t test me,” Ben mutters, “I thought you were meant to be, like, the drug know-it-all. You promised me you wouldn’t overdose.”

“I didn’t technically promise anything. Anyway, come on, Ben, aren’t you used to this by now? I didn’t want you getting worried, so I lied.”

“Well you made me a _lot_ more worried doing this,” Ben sighs, “I paced this room for hours while Mum brought you down from your episode. And if you and I are going to be stuck like this for much longer,” Ben points a finger at him, “Stop lying.”

“You might as well ask me to stop being a major fuck-up.”

Ben glares at him, and turns away from the bed, “I do pity you, Klaus,” he says after a while, “But sometimes, I feel like you’re bringing a lot of this on yourself.”

Klaus raises his eyebrows at Ben, “Excuse me?”

“Who knows?” Ben looks back down at him, “Maybe if you actually tried to get a hold on your powers, you could learn how to shut them off.”

“Oh, great,” Klaus groans, “So now _you’re_ on Team Dad, too?”

“Don’t—” Ben spits at him. Ben’s rarely angry. Serious at times, especially recently, but never angry. “Don’t you dare lump me in with him, Klaus, he fucked me up just as much as you.”

“And you, more than _anyone,_ should understand,” Klaus sits up in the bed with a speed that makes the world spin again, “Weren’t you just saying it yourself? You and I were the only ones who _hated_ our powers. Wouldn’t you have done anything to stop your training? To stop Dad from forcing you to spend all those hours in prisons without telling you they were all actors, making _you_ the death sentence, forcing you to kill all those innocen—”

“You shut your mouth right now, Klaus,” Ben hisses, “Or I swear to god, I’ll disappear right now and never visit you again.”

Klaus did shut his mouth, then, and Ben goes pale.

“I didn’t—” Ben starts, but Klaus cuts him off.

“You can leave?” he asks, incredulous. Then he scoffs, “You can leave whenever you want? Are you telling me I didn’t have to do this at all?”

“I didn’t know you were going to overdose! I just—I just wanted to see my family, Klaus, for God’s sake, I—”

“You…” Klaus turns his head away from Ben, “You mean you can stand here and tell _me_ that I’m the one at fault for all of this, that I’m irresponsible for not wanting my family to use me for my powers… when you’re just trying to use me for them, too?”

Ben doesn’t even try to redeem himself. Klaus feels anger bubble up in him.

“You’re no better than Dad, Ben,” Klaus looks back at him, “Go away.”

Ben stares at him for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and then, just like that, he’s gone.

Klaus looks down at his hands, and then he starts laughing. He laughs until the sound bubbles and distorts with tears, and then he hangs his head in his hands and cries. This is all just so perfect. This is all just so _Klaus._

The door opens, and Grace walks in with a plate in her hands. When she sees him, she makes a soft gasp, and rushes over, “Oh, Klaus, dear, don’t cry,” she puts the sandwich down in front of him – there’s a smiley face burnt into the toast – and wraps her arms around his shoulders, “I didn’t mean to get angry at you before. Oh, I’m such a bad mother, aren’t I? I promise I won’t raise my voice again.”

She’s warm but she shouldn’t be. Another thought that Klaus beats down. He shakes his head and leans into her arms, “It’s not you, Mum. It’s just… Ben.”

“Oh,” Grace stands up again and runs a hand through his hair, “Of course. You must be feeling terrible. I miss him, too.”

Klaus doesn’t know what to say to that that won’t give him away, so he just looks down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kind of feel like i should retcon a few things, since i never imagined this becoming more than just a one-shot. also i read up on some theories about ben's death and it makes me want to tweak it a lil. but idk how y'all will feel about that so maybe i'll just keep it. one thing i /do/ need to retcon is that klaus said he's going to go home to "five mourning brothers and sisters" but this fic is post-Five's disappearance so it's actually four mourning brothers and sisters. it's confusing keeping up with all these losers. 
> 
> for the comments: what are your theories on how klaus's ghost powers/ben's ghost works? i was talking about this w some friends and it's actually really interesting to think of. e.g. we decided that klaus and ben both have to Want to see each other for ben to be summoned, and if one of them doesn't anymore, they can shut off the connection (though klaus doesn't really know how to do that) which also explains a bit about why klaus couldn't manifest his dad in S1E01. also we decided that after they die, ghosts age up until their business on earth is satisfied and they disappear off into the afterlife. ben's business, little does he know it, it about helping klaus with the apocalypse in the future. this explains why ben is the same age as all of them despite seeming to have died fairly young. how do y'all think ben died? and, here's the real mind-blowing question, [possible spoiler for end of s1] do y'all think he'll be alive in S2????? (tag ur comments w spoiler if they discuss anything towards the end of the season, since this fic is fairly spoiler-free ;) )
> 
> omg these notes are so long i just,, love theorising about my Boy ben ok thanks


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